


The Only One

by adrianna_m_scovill



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arguing, Emotional Hurt, Insecurity, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 01:08:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21788893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adrianna_m_scovill/pseuds/adrianna_m_scovill
Summary: For a request - Benson thinks Barba wants her, but he's in a relationship with Carisi.
Relationships: Rafael Barba & Dominick "Sonny" Carisi Jr., Rafael Barba & Olivia Benson, Rafael Barba/Dominick "Sonny" Carisi Jr.
Comments: 10
Kudos: 191





	The Only One

Barba glanced casually at his watch while Benson drank her wine. He’d barely sipped at the scotch she’d given him. She seemed like she needed company, and Barba didn’t want to be rude. He couldn’t quite keep his heel from tapping on her rug, though. He wondered if he could slip into the bathroom and send a quick text—

She sighed, drawing his attention. They were sitting side by side on her sofa, and her arm brushed against his as she shifted. “You ever look back over your life and wonder how you got here?” she asked.

Barba studied her profile for a few seconds, considering the question. “Not really.”

She turned her head to offer him a small smile. “Of course you don’t,” she said, not unkindly.

“Life is just a series of choices,” Barba said. “Every decision we made in our lives, even the tiniest things, led us here. What’s the point of wondering _what if_ when we can’t change things? There’s no do-over in life.”

“Hmm,” she said, searching his face. Her gaze was speculative, and he had a sudden urge to squirm under the weight of her appraisal. “You never think about what might’ve been?”

He hesitated, suddenly sure of what she was asking. This wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have, especially not now. Not when she’d had too much wine, not when he had someone waiting for him. “I’m not proud of all of my decisions,” he said carefully, “but I have to own them. And I’m—”

He’d been about to say he was happy with his life, but she leaned toward him suddenly, raising her free hand to his shoulder, and he felt a rush of panic. He turned his face away and her kiss caught the corner of his mouth.

“Liv,” he said, grabbing her arm to steady her as she drew back to look at him. Her expression went from confused to embarrassed in a matter of seconds, and he could see pain in her eyes. He hated it, he wanted to take it from her; he knew the sting of rejection all too well, and he wouldn’t wish it on one of the best friends he’d ever had in his life.

“I thought—I’m sorry,” she said, pulling away and quickly swallowing the last of her wine. She set her empty glass on the coffee table with a thunk. “God, Rafael, I—”

“It’s okay,” he said, even though it didn’t feel okay at all.

“I’m sorry,” she repeated, running a hand through her hair, “I just, you know…didn’t want to be alone…”

He sat in silence processing that, finding his way through the pain and into the anger. “Flattering,” he finally said.

She looked at him, caught off guard by the flatness of his voice. “You know what I mean,” she said. “I just needed a friend—”

“You wanted someone you didn’t think would reject you,” he said, and he saw her wince. “And I’m the poor schmuck who’s been pining after you for years, right? Surely I’d jump at the chance.”

“That’s a shitty thing to say.” Now her voice was flat, too.

“Yeah,” he agreed, “it feels pretty shitty. I should go.” He set his glass on the table and started to stand.

“I didn’t hear any complaints the last time.”

He froze for a moment, staring at her, before slowly straightening. “Maybe you didn’t want to listen,” he said before he could stop himself.

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing. Forget it. I’m going—”

“No,” she said, getting unsteadily to her feet, “say it. Say what you mean.”

“You know exactly what I mean,” he snapped, glaring at her. “You know—you _knew_. A few years ago, we could’ve—” He cut himself off, clenching his jaw for a moment. He drew a breath through his nose. “It’s too late. I’m seeing someone, and things are different now.”

She opened her mouth and closed it, and he could see the emotions playing over her features: anger, pain, regret. “I’m sorry,” she said softly.

He shook his head and swallowed. “Don’t be,” he said. “I think it’s best if we talk about this later, when we’re both…you know.”

She nodded. There were tears in her eyes, and he felt an answering burn in his own. He drew another bracing breath and leaned forward to kiss her forehead. She touched his chest for a moment but didn’t try to stop him when he drew back.

“Goodnight, Liv,” he said.

* * *

“You wanna tell me why you’re in such a bad mood?”

Barba scowled. He knew Carisi was right—Barba had been snapping at him since he’d arrived at Carisi’s apartment—but he didn’t want to admit it. He didn’t want to admit it, but he couldn’t _lie_ , not to Carisi.

“Liv tried to kiss me,” he said, and he watched Carisi blink in surprise as the former detective processed the words. “Then we had a fight. Not a fight, an argument. Or, whatever. It’s not a big deal.”

“Why would she do that?”

Barba crossed his arms to keep himself from fidgeting. “She’d had some wine. We were sitting on the couch. It was just a misunderstanding.”

“A misunderstanding,” Carisi repeated flatly. He considered for a few seconds. “Liv doesn’t usually misinterpret…well, anything really.”

“Are you saying I, what, led her on?”

“No, of course not. But why…” Carisi trailed off, regarding Barba with blue eyes that were far too observant. “Did you two sleep together?” His tone was suddenly cautious, like he didn’t want to know the answer.

Barba opened his mouth to deflect the question but couldn’t bring himself to do it. “Years ago,” he said. He knew he sounded defensive, and that made him angry. “It was one time, it wasn’t anything serious.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Barba glared at him. “You want me to tell you every fucking person I’ve slept with, Sonny?”

“Not every one, no,” Carisi said slowly, “but maybe our mutual friends.”

“It didn’t mean anything,” Barba shot back, but the words burned in his chest and again on his tongue.

“If it didn’t mean anything, you woulda mentioned it.”

“Jesus, I just wanted to come here and relax. Can’t we drop this?”

“I think we need to talk about it.”

“You think we need to talk about everything!” Barba exclaimed, spreading his hands. He’d never raised his voice to Carisi before, and he could see blooms of color staining the other man’s cheeks. “It’s ex _hausting_ if you want to know the truth. Not everyone wants to talk about their feelings every fucking minute of every day.”

“I’m sorry I’m exhausting to you,” Carisi said. There was a mixture of hurt and anger in his voice, and Barba hated himself. It seemed to be his night for hurting the people he cared about. “I’m sorry I wanna talk to you, share stuff with you.”

“I’m not like you, I don’t say my every thought out loud. I thought you were okay with that, but—”

“You think I wanna change you?” Carisi cut in, and the pain had edged out his anger for the moment. Barba wanted to grab him and apologize before it was too late, but he couldn’t stop his tongue from making things worse.

“It’s not like we’re married. Christ, we’re not even living together and here you’re acting like I cheated on you by sleeping with a friend literal _years_ before you and I started dating.”

“And here _you’re_ acting like _everyone_ didn’t know you were in love with her, like we didn’t know she broke your heart when she started dating Tucker—”

“Fuck you,” Barba blurted. He didn’t mean to say it, but the words leapt from his lips and hung in the air. Barba felt like Carisi had slapped him, and he couldn’t quite catch his breath.

“Yeah, fuck me, then,” Carisi shot back. “Fuck me for thinking we didn’t keep big secrets from each other.”

“Why would I tell you anything if this is how you react,” Barba managed, his mouth barely moving.

“What did you say when she tried to kiss you?”

“I told her I was seeing someone.”

Carisi’s throat worked for a few seconds before he asked, “Someone, but you didn’t tell her it was me?”

“It didn’t seem like a great time—Besides, you don’t work for her anymore, there’s no reason to disclose—”

“No reason to tell her you’re with me.”

“That’s not what I—”

“Are you still in love with her?”

Barba swallowed. “How can you ask me that?”

“You obviously didn’t tell me for a reason.”

“You think I’ve been fucking you for eight months and just biding my time waiting—” He cut himself off. He’d seen Carisi’s wince, and he couldn’t lie to himself, couldn’t pretend he hadn’t chosen his words to injure. He curled his hands into fists at his sides. It was too late to take them back now. “Just biding my time waiting for a chance with her, and when it finally comes I turn her down and come _here_ so you can make me feel like shit you fucking _asshole_?”

“I think we should take a break,” Carisi said quietly. The words sent a cold lance of fear through Barba’s heart.

“No, let’s talk, isn’t this what you wanted?” he asked, putting as much acid and accusation into his voice as he could to cover his terror and pain. “Let’s talk about me being a lying, cheating piece of shit, I don’t want a break—”

“I need a fucking break,” Carisi said, whirling away from him and striding toward the bathroom. Barba stared after him with his heart trying to claw its way up his throat. He wanted to chase after him—to apologize or continue yelling, he wasn’t sure—but his feet were rooted to the floor. Carisi disappeared into the bathroom and closed the door with a carefully-controlled click.

Barba dropped his chin to his chest and closed his eyes. His hands were shaking, so he curled them into fists, but that only made his arms shake.

_You and I are done talking_.

Carisi hadn’t said those words, but he might as well have. And Barba knew he deserved the pain burning through his chest, knew that he was to blame for ruining what he and Carisi had because of his own fear and insecurity and stupid pride.

He walked toward the door on stiff legs, grabbed his coat, and slipped out of Carisi’s apartment before Carisi could ask him to leave. Barba was an expert at leaving before being asked, but it rarely hurt so badly. It rarely felt like his heart was being ripped from his chest. 

* * *

**Maybe you could tell me you’re alive and if you’re coming back**

Barba stared down at the text, his vision blurring.

“Mister, we gonna drive around all night?” the driver asked, sounding equal parts bored and annoyed. Barba had been in the back of the car for almost an hour, unsure what to do or where to go. He couldn’t bring himself to go home to his dark, lonely apartment. That would feel too final.

He’d debated going somewhere to get drunk, but then what?

He didn’t want to be alone.

He didn’t want to be with anyone who wasn’t Carisi.

**Is coming back an option?** he wrote after a minute. He swallowed, gathering his courage before sending the text. He waited without breathing.

**Your dinner’s in the fridge. I’m going to bed.**

Barba felt his face crumple, and he was helpless to stop it. He dropped his head into a hand, choking back the sob that almost made its way past his throat. He didn’t deserve an olive branch. He didn’t deserve a second chance.

He didn’t deserve Sonny Carisi.

* * *

Carisi was lying on his back with an arm bent under his head. The blankets were pulled up to his waist so that only his white t-shirt was visible, but Barba knew he was wearing gray sweatpants—his standard sleeping attire. He looked at Barba but didn’t say anything. The overhead light was off, but the lamp on the bedside table was on.

Barba clenched and unclenched his hands at his sides and glanced around the room. “May I…” He cleared his throat and met Carisi’s eyes. “May I come to bed?” he mumbled. He knew it wasn’t what he should be asking. He should be asking—begging, if necessary—for Carisi’s forgiveness, but the words were lodged in Barba’s chest, buried under the fear that was still making it difficult to breathe properly.

“Of course,” Carisi answered quietly, and those words were like a dagger to Barba’s already aching heart. He didn’t deserve someone like Sonny Carisi and he knew it, but he didn’t want to lose him. He started unbuttoning his shirt, looking down at his shaky fingers so he didn’t have to look at those blue eyes that he loved so much.

Barba toed off his shoes, stripped out of his shirt and pants and laid them over the chair, and stood uncertainly in his undershirt, briefs, and socks.

Carisi reached over and lifted the blankets, silently inviting Barba to join him. Barba blinked back the sting of tears and got into bed, pulling the covers over himself as he laid back beside the other man.

“I meant I needed a break from the conversation, you fucking asshole,” Carisi said. There was no bite behind the words. He sounded tired.

“I don’t want this to be over,” Barba said. The confession was little more than a murmur. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“Then I need you to stay and work things out, Raf,” Carisi said. “I need you to talk to me instead of running away. But you were right, I know you, I know it’s not easy for you to talk about everything, and that’s okay. I’m sorry—”

“Jesus, I wasn’t right,” Barba muttered.

“You were, and I’m going to try to be better at listening when you say you don’t want to talk about something. But I still need you to stay so we can work it out, I need you to tell me if I’m pushing too hard—”

“Sonny,” Barba whispered. He drew a breath. “You’re right, she broke my heart. She didn’t mean to do it, but she did. But do you think that’s something I want to admit out loud? That I’m—” His voice cracked and he stopped, closing his eyes. Tears leaked down into his ears. “I’ve been in love three times—maybe four if you count high school, I don’t know. I can count on one hand the number of relationships I’ve had longer than six months, and do you know what that says about me? Because I do.”

“That you protect yourself?”

“That I’m not someone that people love back. So when they start to pull away, I leave. It’s easier that way, easier than holding on until—” He stopped again. Opened his eyes to look up at the ceiling.

“Some things are worth fighting for.”

Barba’s nose burned with unshed tears. “Why fight if there’s no chance of winning?”

“That’s bullshit. You take impossible cases all the time. You _win_ impossible cases.”

“That’s just it. I know there’s a chance. I know…what I’m good at. But I can’t argue my way into being lovable. I can’t convince someone—”

“Raf, I might never be as good a lawyer as you, but it seems to me you can’t convince someone something you don’t believe yourself. But me, I think we’re good together, you know? I think we’re worth fighting for. I think you could love me if you gave it a chance, and I would—”

“Sonny.” Barba rolled toward him, gathered his courage, and put a palm against Carisi’s chest. Carisi had his head turned on the pillow to look at Barba, but he didn’t move. “I loved Alex. I never told him because it would’ve ruined everything. I loved Liv, and I never told her, either. The thing is, both of them knew. They knew but they didn’t want me, not like I wanted them. But with you it’s different. With you, I feel like I can breathe. And the fact that you don’t know just proves that I’m an asshole who doesn’t deserve you. You’re right, some things are worth fighting for. I don’t want to lose you, I promise I’ll stay and talk things out if you give me a chance, I promise I’ll—”

“Oh,” Carisi said, as though the thought had just occurred to him, “am I one of the three?”

Barba took a moment to weigh the words on his tongue before he answered. “You’re the only one that matters.”

Carisi smiled. “That’s sweet,” he said, reaching up to cover Barba’s hand with his own.

Barba shifted closer. “I’m sorry about the things I said. I panicked. Sonny, I love you. I love you. Please…” He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Please love me back,” he said hoarsely.

“I panicked, too,” Carisi admitted quietly, searching Barba’s face. “Raf, I saw how much she hurt you, and when I thought you might still be in love with her—”

“I’m not.”

“I couldn’t breathe,” Carisi admitted, tightening his hold on Barba’s hand.

“I promise I’ll never keep any secrets from you,” Barba vowed.

Carisi rolled toward him and laid his palm against Barba’s jaw. “You never had to convince me to love you, Rafael. Loving you _is_ like breathing.” He gave Barba a soft kiss before pressing their foreheads together.

Barba released his own breath slowly. He tipped his chin up to touch another kiss to Carisi’s lips, and another. He raised his hand to Carisi’s jaw and then they laid there for long moments, foreheads together, hands to each other’s face, breathing softly. Barba could feel the knots in his stomach loosening, could feel the tension leaving his body.

“I want my future to be with you,” he murmured, rubbing his thumb over Carisi’s cheek. He hesitated. “Will you move in with me?”

Carisi smiled, drawing back far enough to meet Barba’s eyes. “I know you don’t like this place very much.”

“I like any place you are.”

“You don’t like it,” Carisi countered gently, “but you stay here because it’s easier for me.”

“Yeah, easier for you to make me dinner,” Barba shot back, and Carisi chuckled softly. “If you want to stay here, I’ll—”

Carisi cut him off with another kiss, this time letting his lips linger. Finally, he said, “I love you. We can sort our future out tomorrow. Right now I just want to sleep with you, okay?”

Barba wrapped his arms around the other man, pulling him closer, and Carisi snuggled against his chest. “Alright.” Barba kissed Carisi’s head. He closed his eyes, letting his body relax into Carisi’s warmth. “Plenty of time for everything else,” he promised in a whisper.


End file.
